


Unforeseen Consequences

by Thescratchman (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Slash, Swearing, it's really mild, like really mild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-03 04:14:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Thescratchman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That one where Jean-Paul get's pregnant due to a series of totally legit events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Normal disclaimers. :)

**Medical Bay**

**Utopia/Asteroid M**

**Off the coast of San Francisco**

 

            One could consider it to be a fairly normal day on the mutant’s island of Utopia. Everything –from the color of the sky, to the gender of Jean-Paul Beaubier –screamed ‘normal’.

            As it was, Jean-Paul was a man. A man, as it so happens, that was sitting on examination table in the Medical Bay, waiting both impatiently and slightly nervously to hear what Doctors Kavita Rao and James Bradley (also known as ‘Nemesis’) had to say in regard to the result of some medical tests.

As the two doctors approached him, Nemesis smirked in a way Jean-Paul decided he didn’t like.

“So?” Jean-Paul said.

            Nemesis opened his mouth, but Kavita beat him to it, “There are good news and bad news, Jean-Paul. Which would you like to hear first?”

            Jean-Paul’s eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth curved downward, “The bad news, please.” He said.

            “You’re a man.” Nemesis said immediately with a smirk so wide it took up half his face.

“What sort of bad news is that?” Jean-Paul snapped.

“The _good_ news is you’re a man again, and you a _definitely_ not ill.,” Kavita corrected.

            “The bad news, then,” Nemesis said, obviously getting ready to drop the bomb, “is you are pregnant.”

            Jean-Paul stared. The color left his face and still, he stared at Dr. Nemesis.

 

**\--Three Weeks Earlier, Jean-Paul’s room, Utopia—**

It was utterly humiliating. Jean-Paul had spent long hours checking over the damage that gypsy-hag had inflicted.

            Really, how was he to know that, for once, it wasn’t a fraud, pretending to know spells?

Could Jean-Paul even refer to himself as a ‘he’ anymore?

            To add insult to injury, Scott Summers had arranged for a training session in the Danger Room, and all X-Men on the active team-roster were required to participate.

            No one had seen Jean-Paul for _hours_ , and though he – _she_ – could zoom through Utopia in a blur so that no one would be able to tell that he – _she_ –Jean-Paul Beaubier was a _woman_ , he ( _she_!) would have to stay still _eventually_ , and then people would _see_ him …her.

            Goddammit! Jean-Paul had _breasts_! And long hair and –and… that gypsy had been _thorough_.

            When Jean-Paul put on his costume, he almost screamed. Of course, it no longer fit.

            As a woman, his – _her_ –shoulders were not that broad, and her figure could be deemed ‘delicate’.

            Jean-Paul was ready to pretend that she was sick, and simply skip the training session, when there was a knock on the door.

            “Northstar?”

It was Storm.

            Jean-Paul resisted the urge to groan and fall face-down on his bed. Instead, the Quebecois grabbed the door and yanked it open, “ _What_?”

            Storm stared at her in confusion.

Jean-Paul looked up and down the hallway and then pulled Storm into the room, closing the door behind her.

            “Aurora, where’s-?”

“I’m not Aurora.” Jean-Paul interrupted, “I am Jean-Paul… although, obviously, I’ve been transformed into a woman.” She gestured to herself in distress.

            Storm gasped, “Oh my Goddess! What did you do?”

Jean-Paul made a face, “Why do I assume that _I_ did something?” Then when Storm crossed her arms, he sniffed and said: “It was a pissed off gypsy.”

            Storm arched an elegant white eyebrow and looked Jean-Paul up and down. Then, without warning, she began to laugh.

            Jean-Paul jumped, startled by the sudden noise, and flushed.

“I’m sorry,” Storm apologized, gasping for breath, “I shouldn’t find your misfortune so amusing.”

            “Well I better get used to it,” Jean-Paul snapped, “That’s how everyone’s going to react, isn’t it?”

            Storm straightened up and said: “Some people are, yes, but we’ve seen stranger things with the X-Men.”

            Jean-Paul groaned nevertheless, and rubbed a hand over her face as she dropped onto her bed.

“I must say, though,” Storm spoke up after a moment, “No matter how temporary this condition turns out to be, you will still need to wear female clothing. I suggest you start with a bra.”

            Jean-Paul looked up at her. Storm stared back innocently.

Narrowing her eyes, Jean-Paul said, “I have a horrible feeling that I am going to be hearing about this for a very, very long time.”

            “Why, whatever do you mean, Jean-Paul?” Storm said.

            Jean-Paul threw her arms into the air, “Alright then, help me find something to wear! Like maybe a _bra_.”

            Storm chuckled at that and said, “Come with me. We can find you something of mine to borrow for the time being.”

            Jean-Paul’s scowl deepened.

 

The way Jean-Paul figured it, borrowing Storm’s _female_ clothes and seeing in the mirror just how _well_ they _fit_ wasn’t the worst part. It was walking down the hall _wearing_ Storm’s clothes and seeing her teammates gawking at her without a clue that it _was_ her. 

Once she let them know (“Hey, it’s Jean-Paul; yes, I have been turned into a woman. Now stop staring down my shirt.”), it was going to get a very weird.

            Jean-Paul trailed after Storm as they entered the usual X-Men meeting room.

Naturally, Scott was there, and so were Namor, Emma, and X-23.

            “Storm,” Emma said with barely-concealed dislike, “I know you’re queen to a third-world _continent_ , but have you ever bothered knocking?”

            Storm crossed her arms and said coolly, “The walls are glass, Emma. You could see me approaching.”

Scott ignored the comments, “How can I help, Ororo?” He said.

            Storm took this to wave toward Jean-Paul, thus focusing the attention of the room upon her. “We need to find someone to change him back.”

            Laura was subtly sniffing at the air, and it was evident that she had figured it out before the others, because she stared at Jean-Paul and tilted her head, “I do not understand.” She said, “Why has Northstar magicked himself into a woman?”

            Scott and Emma looked at Laura and then at Jean-Paul. Their faces displayed identical expressions of mild confusion, but as X-Men, they used to strange things, so they knew that there was a reasonable explanation for everything. Or at least, they hoped there was.

            “It was a gypsy, and an accident. On my part, anyway.” Jean-Paul added.

Their reactions were as Jean-Paul expected them to be: Emma raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips in that slight way that made her look vaguely amused, Namor smirked in that obnoxious, ‘Oh-you-humans’ way and Scott remained perfectly unreadable, though Jean-Paul had a snaking suspicion that his eyes might be amused behind those ruby-quartz glasses.

            “I imagine that you must feel horribly off balance.” Emma remarked after a moment, “You know… weight in all the wrong areas.”

            “Ha-fucking-ha, Emma.” Jean-Paul snapped.

            “What are you going to do about this?” Scott asked, ignoring their exchange.

Jean-Paul sighed.

 

+++

 

            “This is not what I should be doing right now.”  Jean-Paul groaned as Rogue pulled her through the slightly underground mutant night club in San Francisco less than five hours later.

“’Ro told me tah find somethin’ tah do that would cheer ya up!” She yelled cheerfully over the blaring music, “Ya can go back tah tryin’ tah cure yourself tomorrow!”

            Jean-Paul looked down at her outfit -some the clothes Rogue had taken her out to buy –which was a short-short skirt black, a tight, spaghetti-stringed red top with an open back, and very little else. She wasn’t sure how she had even gotten to this point. The moment Jean-Paul (with the help of Storm) had announced and spread the word to the X-Men that she was going to temporarily ( _very_ temporarily, hopefully) going to be a woman, many of the X-Woman had immediately pounced at the news as an excuse to leave Utopia, go to San Francisco, and shop… and this had eventually led to going to a night club. Of course, when plans for the club began to formulate a few of the X-Men also traveled to the city to join up with the woman.

            At first, Jean-Paul had attracted the eye of many of her male team mates, but once they heard The News (“OMIGOD, did you hear? JP’s a woman!”), they were looking everyone _but_ her. Talk about awkward.

            “Have a drink!” Rogue said, placing a glass beer in Jean-Paul’s hand, “I’m going onto the floor, but I bettah see ya there in few minutes.” She patted the other woman’s shoulder and then slipped away from the bar and toward the dance floor.

            Sighing, Jean-Paul hopped onto one of the bar stools and looked around as she took a swig of beer.

            When she looked back to the dance floor, she was alarmed to find a great muscular man standing a few feet away. He had a leer on his face that Jean-Paul supposed was what he considered a charming expression. “Hey there, gorgeous,” He slurred, obviously very drunk, “care for a dance?”

            Jean-Paul wrinkled her nose, “No thank you.”

“Let’s dance,” The man said, reaching out and grabbing her wrist.

“I said _no_.” Jean-Paul snapped, trying to yank her arm free, but failing.

            “What’s your power, anyway? Being hot?”

“ _Hey_ ,” Another voice suddenly cut in over the din of the club, and Bobby Drake was standing behind the man, “Back off, man. You’re drunk.”

            The man blinked drunkenly at Bobby in surprise. “What, is she yours?” he said.

Bobby crossed his arms, “Yeah. She’s my girlfriend. Go find another girl.”

            The man gave up easily, letting go of Jean-Paul, shrugging and slouching back off into the crowds. Bobby turned back to Jean-Paul and grinned.

            “Uh, thank you, Robert.” Jean-Paul said hesitantly, rubbing his wrist.

“No problem. I mean, that guy had bad pick-up lines anyway.” Bobby shrugged and took Jean-Paul’s arm, “You don’t bruise easily, do you? He was holding on pretty tight.”

            “I will be fine.” Jean-Paul assured, watching Bobby inspect her wrist. “It was just a drunk.”

            Bobby grinned, “You might have to find something to ward off all the men that will come after you, JP.”

            Jean-Paul laughed once without humor and took a sip of her drink.

“But hey, the guy was right –you should dance.” Bobby remarked suddenly, holding out a hand.

She looked down at it warily, “You’re only interested because I am an appealing female.” She said.

            Bobby blinked and tilted his head to the side, as if he had just begun to consider the idea, “Well, you do look pretty. _But_ I asked because it is part of my unofficial job description to try and keep all of my teammates from being miserable. And you’re a team mate who seems kinda miserable, so…” He grinned, his had still held out in an inviting manner.

            Jean-Paul sighed and threw back the rest of her drink in a gulp. Setting down her glass, she slid off the bar stool and took Bobby’s hand, “Why not?”

            They squeezed through the crowd and onto the dance floor, where they would stay for little more than an hour and a half before returning to Utopia.

 

**\--Twenty Days Earlier, Bobby’s Room, Utopia—**

Jean-Paul woke up slowly, and the first thing she noticed was the warm presence on the bed next to her. The second thing she noticed was that it wasn’t even _her_ bed.

            Jean-Paul’s eyes snapped wide open and she gasped, looking to the side.

Bobby moaned softly and shifted over on the bed.

            Jean-Paul squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, scrubbing a hand over her face. She couldn’t recall too much. With the amount of alcohol she had consumed the night before, even her super high metabolism took a few hours to purge all the drunkenness away.

            Drunk, drunk, drunk –God, she had been so drunk. And she had had hot, drunk sex with Robert Drake.

            Things might get awkward in the future.

Sighing, Jean-Paul slipped out of bed, collected her clothes off the floor from around the room, and headed into the bathroom.

            Bobby was still asleep when Jean-Paul slipped out of the room. She jogged quickly through the halls, barefoot, with her shoes in her hands.

            “Jean-Paul!”

She froze, making a face before turning around slowly, “Hello, Rogue!” She said.

            Rogue approached quickly, her eyes roaming over Jean-Paul as she took in the French-Canadian’s rumpled state. “Lost track of ya last night… where’d ya run off to?” She asked.

            Jean-Paul shifted her weight onto her other foot, “Well, you know. I was on the dance floor.”

            “Until you an’ Bobby decided tah head back, right?” Rogue said, blinking innocently.

“Don’t get too excited. It was one night. We were drunk, and I was a woman.” Jean-Paul said, beginning to walk again.

            “Don’t you think that’s odd, though?” Rogue persisted, “Any other person ya know wouldn’t have gone at it with ya just ‘cuz ya’re a gal –we all know ya’re really a man!”

            “Rogue…” Jean-Paul sighed, “Why don’t we… Let’s just not over analyze this, okay? I need to begin figuring out how to return to my original form again, anyway.”

“Yeah, sure, JP,” Rogue said, looking disappointed, “I hafta go meet with one of the kids, anyway. See ya later.”

            Jean-Paul waved his hand dismissively and continued down the hall without turning around.


	2. Chapter 2

**Medical Bay**

**Utopia/Asteroid M**

**Off the coast of San Francisco**

**-Twenty Days Earlier-**

“It is extremely remarkable.” Kavita said, approaching Jean-Paul with the results of the many scans and tests that had been taken on her. “It seems as if you are one-hundred percent _female_ –physically, of course.”

            “It’s magic.” Nemesis grumbled, looking moody at the idea that there was not scientific explanation for Jean-Paul’s situation.

“You’re going to have to find a witch or something to help you. We’re sorry.” Kavita apologized.

            Jean-Paul sighed and crossed her arms, “Alright. Thank you, I suppose.” She said. “I’ll do that.”

             “Good luck, Jean-Paul,” Kavita called after her as she exited the Med Bay.

“I’m going to need it,” Jean-Paul replied darkly under her breath.

            As the day went on, though, it became apparent that Jean-Paul just didn’t have any luck to begin with. The few gypsies she managed to locate around San Francisco were either frauds, or not _magical_ _enough_.

            Most of them told Jean-Paul the same thing, though: _Find the gypsy who did it. She can reverse the magic_.

            She didn’t find her, of course.

By the end of the day, Jean-Paul returned to Utopia, still female, and more than disappointed. It didn’t help, either, that when she returned, everyone looked so surprised to see her still in female form.

            “No luck?”

Jean-Paul tilted her head back and looked up from where she sat on the couch and scowled, “What do _you_ think?” she said dryly.

            “Sorry.” Bobby smiled apologetically.

She stared at Bobby for a moment, just looking into those pale blue eyes. The last time she had seen them was the night before, when they had been in bed.

            “Hi.” He said, leaning over Jean-Paul.

“Hello.” She replied, slapping Bobby lightly across the face.

“Urgh!” He flinched back, “What was that for?”

            Jean-Paul sat up and turned her attention back to the television, “I was ruining the mood.”

“What mood?” Bobby muttered, rubbing his cheek.

She glanced back at him, “You’re not getting any from me, Robert. Don’t look like you don’t know what I’m talking about. And I didn’t slap you that hard.” She said, looking back at the TV.

            “It still stings.” Bobby retorted.

“Stop grumbling. It’s unattractive.” Jean-Paul replied absently.

            Bobby walked around the couch and sat down on the couch, “What’re you watching, anyway?”

“ _Sixteen and Pregnant_ ,” She answered, “It’s the most ridiculous show I have ever seen.”

            He looked at her and then turned his head to stare at the screen. “That girl isn’t very good at narrating her life.” He commented after a moment.

            “None of them are.”

“Um… How many of these episodes have you _watched_ , JP?” Bobby asked.

“Enough.” She replied with a shrug.

“Should I be concerned?” He wondered.

            “I’m not.” Jean-Paul responded, standing up. She exited the room swiftly, brushing past Rogue, who had just entered.

            “Did I offend him somehow?” Bobby asked her, looking utterly confused.

“Maybe she’s PMS-in’.” Rogue shrugged, dropping down onto the couch where Jean-Paul had previously been seated.

            Bobby tilted his head thoughtfully, “He can’t PMS! He’s not even really a girl!”

“Then why did ya have sex with _him_?” Rogue said, crossing her arms, “An’ don’t give me any ‘Ah was drunk’ bullshit.”

            He gaped at her, at lost for words.

“Ah thought so.” She said smugly.

“I didn’t even say anything! Don’t jump to conclusions!” Bobby snapped.

            “You really _do_ like Jean-Paul. And now that he’s a _woman_ , you feel more secure pursuing him.” Rogue declared.

“I _what_?” Bobby said weakly.

            Rogue blinked and tilted her head, “Well, why _did_ ya do it with him, then?”

Bobby shrugged, “Um… sex is fun?”

She groaned and slapped his arm in response.

            They didn’t bring up the conversation again.

…

**-Nineteen Days Earlier-**

 

Jean-Paul was royally pissed at the world. She was pissed at the gypsies, she was pissed at Namor for his obnoxious comments, she was pissed at Dr. Strange for being out of contact, and she was pissed at herself.

 

**-Fifteen Days Earlier-**

 

Jean-Paul was frightened at just how comfortable she was becoming as a woman. On the sixth day as a woman, she woke up and didn’t even have a panic attack when she looked into the mirror.

            Meanwhile, Dr. Strange and Dr. Voodoo were still missing.

It had been agreed that they would be the best sorcerers to go to for help (no one wanted to make any deals with Dr. Von Doom, after all), so there was little else Jean-Paul could do but wait for their return.

            So she dressed every day in women’s clothing and wore Storm’s old uniforms for Danger Room sessions. They had discovered that her uniforms were made to be able to endure high winds and extreme low temperatures for when Storm flew or made tornados. Thus, they could take Jean-Paul’s high speeds as well.

            The only problem Jean-Paul had with Storm’s costume was that it was only a black leotard after they took away the cape, leaving Jean-Paul feeling vaguely like Psylocke without the purple hair, sash, and sword. So they found one of her older, white costumes with the long sleeves and legs, instead. That worked much better. It still didn’t stop some people from staring, though.

 

**-Thirteen Days Earlier-**

 

Jean-Paul kept himself busy. She made sure that there was no free time for her to feel miserable, and certainly no time to have sex with anyone. Though the first night had been great, Jean-Paul wasn’t interested in causing any trouble as a female. And she knew that sex equaled trouble. Especially since she was female.

 

- **Six Days Earlier-**

 

Jean-Paul woke up on Day 15 and nearly fell back onto her bed in a spell of dizziness when she stood up. She groaned and scrubbed a hand over her face. The morning then continued like normal: Jean-Paul picked out some clothes to wear, walked down the hall to the showers, and brushed her teeth then brushed her hair when she finished showering.

            Day 15 was when the good news came.

“Jean-Paul,” Storm said at lunch, “Emma has found Dr. Strange. He said he’s going to come here in three days.”

            “Did he say he could change me back?” Jean-Paul asked.

“Strange is much more powerful than a gypsy, Jean-Paul. You’ll be a man again in no time.”

            Only after hearing that did she break into a grin and sigh in relief, “It has been far too long.”

            “Ah’ll say,” Rogue agreed as she dropped down into a seat at the table, “Hey JP, ya sure ya won’t miss the clothes or anything?”

She made a face, “Not at all.” She looked at Rogue for a moment and said, “Why aren’t you sitting with Gambit, anyway?”

            Rogue rolled her eyes, “Remy’s bein’ a dick, so Ah’m just lettin’ him cool off before he tries tah win me back.”

            Storm laughed, “It doesn’t sound like you are too angry with him.” She pointed out.

Rogue grinned, “Oh, Ah’m not. But Ah have tah pretend Ah am so Remy doesn’t get it into his head that Ah’m a pushover or that he can get away with everythin’.”

            “Clever.” Jean-Paul said appreciatively, “You really are a manipulative woman, Rogue.”

“Hey! It’s how we survive!” she replied with a laugh.

            Jean-Paul passed through the afternoon in such a good mood, some of the young X-Men grew concerned and asked if he was okay during a Danger Room session. Nothing seemed to be able to wreck his mood; after all, who wouldn’t be cheerful if they had been a woman for over two weeks and had just learned that they were getting changed back into a man soon?

 

- **Five Days Earlier** -

 

On Day 16, Jean-Paul talked to Bobby for the first time since the night with MTV. It wasn’t that he had been _avoiding_ Bobby, per se, but he just hadn’t really had time for small talk for the past few weeks (he had been keeping himself busy).

            But the sixteenth day of her accidental womanhood found Jean-Paul and Bobby assigned for Danger Room one-on-one.

            Bobby was already in the Danger Room when she arrived. He was standing in the middle of the room, waiting, as she stepped inside.

“Hey JP!” he called with a wave and a grin.

            She crossed the room and nodded, “Hello.”

“Right, so hand-to-hand or powers first?” Bobby asked. One-on-Ones usually had powerless and with power combat practice without any of the holograms going.

            “Hand-to-hand.” Even as a woman, the other X-Men knew not to mess with Jean-Paul. She still had a powerful punch and was quick even without her mutant powers.

Bobby nodded, “Okay.”

            They stepped back a few feet and went into defensive positions. Bobby counted slowly, “Three… two… one.”

            It was no longer Jean-Paul and Bobby, now. It was Northstar and Iceman. The two opponents circled each other, looking for an opening for attack. Iceman made the first move, sending out a punch, but Northstar blocked it and grabbed his arm, using it as a way for her to pull herself closer to him and knee him in the stomach.

            As the training session went on, they steadily became more worn out. By the time they finally called it a tie and decided to take a break, they were sore and were most likely going to have to see Elixir to heal some nasty bruises that would form soon.

            After the session, they went to their respective locker rooms (Jean-Paul went to the women’s room) and showered. They met up afterwards and headed down to the Medical Bay, where Elixir could usually be found. As they walked, the kept the conversation light with small talk.

            Elixir, it turned out, _was_ in the Medical Bay. When Jean-Paul and Bobby walked in, they found him in the middle of an argument with another mutant. “Telford, for the last fucking time, man –I won’t do it. You aren’t even supposed to be-” He looked and saw the other X-Men standing in the doorway and said, “Oh hey.”

            The tattooed man he had addressed as ‘Telford’ glanced over at them and then hissed something at the golden-skinned boy before vanishing.

            “Hey Josh.” Bobby greeted, “We just need a quick healing.”

“Lemme guess.” Elixir rolled his eyes, “Danger Room session. You people depend on me to fix all you little injuries all the time.” Nevertheless he walked over to them.

            “So what did Vanisher want?” Bobby asked.

“To be healed, of course.” Elixir snorted with distaste. He reached out toward Bobby, “Try not to fidget too much.” He said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

            Bobby gave off a golden glow for a moment before Elixir let go of him and stepped back, “You strained a muscle in your shoulder, you know.” he said.

            Bobby shrugged and swung his arms back in forth, loosening his muscles, “Well it’s gone now. Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Elixir muttered, turning to Jean-Paul. He held out his hand to her, and she took it. She felt a warm feeling flush through her and then over her skin. Elixir didn’t let go of her, though. His eyes had closed and he had a frown on his face. A moment passed and he opened his eyes, letting go of her hand, “Huh. That was strange. I could’ve sworn-”

            But Jean-Paul didn’t hear the rest. She felt a sharp pain to her abdomen and doubled over with a yell.

“Jean-Paul?” Bobby said, putting a hand on her shoulder but unsure of what else to  do.

            She dropped to her knees as the pain continued. “What… did you…do?” she asked Elixir through gritted teeth as she wrapped her arms around the section of her torso where she felt the aching pain the most.

            “I just-” he stuttered, looking shocked.

“ _Fix it_!” Jean-Paul growled. She let out a whimper and a groan and leaned forward, retching. Still, the ache in her abdomen grew until it became too much to bear.

            She was vaguely aware of Elixir dashing out of the room as he called for Nemesis and Kavita, but by then her eyelids were fluttering close…

 

When she opened her eyes again, Jean-Paul found herself in a hospital bed with the anxious faces of people he couldn’t focus on enough to name standing over her. She moaned and leaned over the side of the bed before vomiting once more.

            Then it all went black.

            Every once in a while, she would wake up and throw up. Luckily, someone had brought in a bucket.

            Jean-Paul wasn’t sure when the pain in her abdomen had ceased. When she came around the tenth time, the only thing she knew was that she was drenched in sweat, and there was a strangely dressed man with gray-streaked black hair standing over her.

            She watched, disorientated, as the man swung some sort of amulet over her and then began to speak in a tongue she didn’t recognize. A peaceful sort of feeling soon fell over her and she drifted in unconsciousness once more.

 

- **Yesterday-**

Jean-Paul’s eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling. He was drenched in sweat, and felt completely _awful_ all around, but as he moved to rest a hand on his chest, he seemed to be lacking…

            “Welcome back, Jean-Paul.”

He turned his head to see Kavita standing nearby, smiling at him.

“I’m…” He started to say it, but his throat was too dry.

            The biologist nodded, knowing what he was trying to say, “Dr. Strange came earlier than expected. It was quite an emergency.”

“How long his it been?” He whispered.

“Only four days.” She replied.

            “What happened to me?”

Kavita hesitated and said, “You need to rest. Your body has been under a lot of stress. I will tell you when you are well again.”

 

**-Now-**

“I’m _what_?” Jean-Paul burst out. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard Nemesis; he just said it out of disbelief.

            “Jean-Paul, we’re assuming you had sexual intercourse with  a man sometime in the past three weeks.” Kavita began to explain, “And naturally, since you weren’t female, you never noticed that you missed a period. Due to your mutation, you were already five weeks pregnant when Elixir healed you after the Danger Room session. Obviously, he didn’t realize that you would have a human fetus inside of you, and he accidentally sped up its development even more before he noticed it was there. The pain you felt was just your body rejecting the sudden changes. Luckily, Dr. Strange arrived and stabilized you and the baby while returning you to male form. Technically, the womb is being protected by … _magic_ , since the rest of your insides are male again.”

            Jean-Paul looked down and rest a hand near his stomach. He looked back up, shocked, and said, “Why can I feel a bump?”

            Nemesis and Kavita exchanged looks and the latter said, “Well, we’ve estimated that Elixir sped you up to … week eleven. You’re already almost done with the first trimester.”

            He looked from Kavita to Nemesis and groaned, “Three months in three weeks. Great.”

“Oh, you won’t be getting it that easy.” Nemesis assured, “The baby’s development is back to normal, but normal for you is twice as fast, so you’re going to be walking around with a baby bump for at _least_ another three months. And it’s going to get bigger and bigger-”

            “Bradley!” Kavita snapped, “You are no help at all! Go play with you experiments!”

Nemesis shrugged and nodded at Jean-Paul, mouthing, “and bigger,”

            Jean-Paul clenched his teeth together and glared at Nemesis’s retreating back.

“So, how are you feeling, Jean-Paul?” Kavita asked, “Hungry? Dizzy? Nauseas?”

“Starving.” Jean-Paul realized. “I don’t feel very sick.”

            “You’re almost past the period of morning sickness.” Kavita nodded, “You sped right through it, but that’s part of the reason you’ve been so ill for the past few days. You should definitely get something to eat soon, though. You probably noticed that you were eating more than usual at breakfast.”

            “I usually eat a lot because of my metabolism, but yes, I did notice.” He nodded.

“Well, you _are_ eating for two now…” She paused and frowned, “Unless you’d rather get an abortion…?”

“ _Non_.” Jean-Paul answered automatically. The thought horrified so much he had replied without converting to English. “I mean, I am not going to _kill_ a baby.”

            “Good,” Kavita said, looking relieved. “Now before I let you go, I want to just tell you that because your baby is being protected by a spell, you won’t be experiencing most of the things women have to go through during pregnancy. You will still be eating a lot, and you’ll have to rest more often as the baby grows bigger, but you won’t get any cramps or edema… oh, and you won’t be going into labor, so when the time is right, Dr. Strange will come back to take the spell off the baby, and we’ll perform a C-Section.”

            Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow, “Do any of you know _how_ to?”

“Well, in theory, yes,” Kavita said, “But Hank McCoy will be coming in a few days to be your doctor, so don’t worry.”

            “Alright.” He said, sliding off the examination table, “Can I leave?”

“Two more things,” She smiled apologetically, “One: You will have to announce your pregnancy to everyone, including the father, which leads me to number two: do you know who the father is of the child is?”

            Jean-Paul nodded, “Yes, I do.”

It was just then, as he answered, that it finally struck him. He had been so focused on what was happening to _him_ , he had completely forgotten about Bobby.

            The _father_.

He left the Med Bay and headed to the cafeteria, making up his mind. He was going to eat first, break the news to Storm and Rogue (with whom he had grown close to over the past month), grow confidence with their support (at least he hoped they would support him. There was a very small chance they wouldn’t…), and then tell Bobby.

            Yes, that was going to be the plan.

Jean-Paul took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

            As he walked down the hall, he kept having the feeling that everyone was staring at him. That was ridiculous, because his pregnancy wasn’t even very visible, and he was wearing a sweater, which wasn’t very tight at all.

            It was just his nerves getting the better of his imagination.

Storm and Rogue were sitting at a table near the front of the cafeteria, and Rogue waved Jean-Paul over as he walked out with a plate of food. After years of living with him, no one found the amount of food piled onto his plate odd at all.

            “Hey JP!” Rogue grinned, “How’re ya feeling?”

“Male.” He snorted in reply as he sat down.

“We visited ya in the Med Bay a few days ago. Ya didn’t look too good. What happened?” She wondered.

            Jean-Paul took a bite of food and chewed slowly. He swallowed and said, “My body was just rejecting some changes Elixir accidentally made.”

“Accidentally?” Storm frowned.

            “None of us realized I was pregnant.”

“None of ya realized…” Rogue repeated, her mouth falling open.

“Jean-Paul do you mean…?” Storm said.

            “I’m eleven weeks pregnant. The baby is growing in a womb protected by a spell by Dr. Strange.” He nodded quietly.

The two women stared at him, dumbstruck, as Gambit sat down at the table next to Rogue.

            “I feel like I missed somet’in’.” He said, looking around at them all.

“Oh my god!” Rogue suddenly squealed.

            Jean-Paul relaxed immediately as she and Storm smiled. He had been worried for a moment.

            “Can Ah say congratulations, or is this a _bad_ thing?” Rogue asked.

“It’s fine.” Jean-Paul said, smiling slightly.

“This certainly is unexpected.” Storm mused, “But if you’re alright, I’m happy for you.”

            “Thank you, Ororo.” He said.

“Well don’t keep talkin’ tah _us_ , you’re probably hungry!” Rogue said.

            Jean-Paul picked up his fork and rolled his eyes, “I am _starving_.”

Gambit looked around the table at Storm and Rogue, who were still beaming at Jean-Paul. “I’m missin’ somet’in’, ain’ I?” He grumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Jean-Paul’s Room**

**Utopia/Asteroid M**

**Off the coast of San Francisco**

Jean-Paul closed the door of his room and leaned back on it with a sigh. Once in the safety of his own room, he dropped his mask of composure and lifted his sweater to stare at the little bump –barely there –just below his stomach.

            He sighed miserably and pulled his shirt down as he went over to sit on his bed. Minutes passed and he stared at his shoes, willing himself not to think about anything, especially not about---

            Jean-Paul slapped a hand over his eyes and groaned as he fell onto his back.

Then he let himself go.

He stomped his feet on the ground, growling, then kicked at the air and pulled at his hair. “Aaargh!” he yelled, punching at the air angrily, “ _Bobby Drake, ce connard! Je suis un homme!_ Un homme _! Je ne devrais pas être enceinte, je ne devrais pas avoir un bébé_!” he said, following his rant with a stream of curses.

            He figured he had the right to act like he was, anyway.

There was a knock on the door and Jean-Paul ceased movement in a millisecond. He lay quietly on his bed, breathing hard.

            There was another knock, “You okay in there? I heard screaming…” someone said from the other side of the door.

Jean-Paul’s eyes narrowed and he sat up immediately.

“JP?”

            He stood and straightened out his clothes and hair as he zipped over to the door. He grabbed the knob and let the door fly open quickly. “May I help you, Robert?” He said frostily.

Bobby let his arm drop down to his side and he frowned, “I just… you didn’t sound so good. It’s uh, cool that you’re out of the Med Bay, though. Um, but I guess since you’re okay, I’ll just, uh…” He turned to go, but Jean-Paul grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into the room, “No. It’s _convenient_ that you came here. I need to discuss something with you, anyway.”

            The door closed and Bobby knew he was trapped. Jean-Paul’s expression was difficult to name, but it looked something like anger or barely-concealed rage. Either way, Bobby knew he was in for it.

            …Whatever ‘it’ was.

“So, um… what’s up?” Bobby asked. Ooh, maybe nonchalance wasn’t the right approach; Jean-Paul’s eyes narrowed to slits.

            “It’s not really about what is ‘ _up_ ’, Robert.” Jean-Paul replied, “It’s more about what is ‘ _in_ ’, specifically, ‘what is in me’.”

“Um…”

“Ask, Robert. Please, _humor me_.” Jean-Paul said.

Bobby really didn’t want to say it. He was beginning to dread the direction this conversation was heading toward. “Uh, what’s in …you?” He squeaked.

            Jean-Paul leaned in intimidatingly until their faces were mere inches apart. “A child, Robert.” A moment later he added, “Do even _think_ of asking if I am serious.”

            Bobby closed his mouth and glanced down, “You… uh… _how_?”

“Let us think back.” Jean-Paul said, still using the same, dry tone, “When we had sex, I was a woman. You are a man. You have male parts, I had female parts. Now, do I have to take you through Sex Ed again?”

            Bobby stepped back, looking troubled. “But how is it… _still_ -?”

“Dr. Strange. You recall last week? I was sick.”

“Yeah…” Bobby said, still frowning.

            Jean-Paul filled him in on everything Kavita had told him.

Bobby’s expression slowly changed to just utter, complete shock. He slid back against the wall and ran a hand through his hair, “Christ, Jean-Paul… I…” He looked up, “Eleven weeks?”

            “Yes.” Jean-Paul replied shortly.

Bobby let out a huge breath and rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. “So, you aren’t going to … get an abortion, right?” He said, “I mean, it’s already a baby… kind of, I guess.”

“I thought I already said I wasn’t.” Jean-Paul said.

            “Wha-? Yeah, right, you did.”

Then there was silence.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Bobby said after a moment.

            Jean-Paul shook his head, “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to.” He replied. “I mean, it’s my kid, too, right? So, I should… help.”

“You realize, then, that when I tell the rest of the team, you will have to be named as the father?” Jean-Paul asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Yeah, but I have to take responsibilities for my actions, and my actions… um… had, um… unforeseen consequences…?”

Jean-Paul stared at Bobby for a moment and suddenly the corner of his mouth quirked upward in amusement. He couldn’t help himself; Bobby just looked so completely bewildered by everything, yet was doing his best to accept it.

            “Thank you, Robert.” He said. Then he said brightly, “So, will you be calling your parents, then?”

That pushed Bobby over the edge, and he turned pale as a sheet. “Oh my God.” He whispered hoarsely, “My mom is going to kill me.”

            “You’re an X-Man, your parents should learn to expect strange things.” Jean-Paul said.

“No,” Bobby said, sinking down to the ground and putting his hands over his face, “My mom said I had to get married before knocking someone up.”

            Jean-Paul burst into laughter, and Bobby groaned through his hands, “Don’t _laugh_. She’s going to be _furious_!”

            Jean-Paul just laughed even harder.

Bobby tried to scowl up at him, but ended up trying not to smile instead. Jean-Paul helped him up to his feet, still smiling with amusement.

            “So, I guess we should… tell everyone else?” Bobby said nervously.

“Ororo and Rogue took it well.” Jean-Paul said, “Stranger things _have_ happened to the X-men. And Dr. McCoy will be coming to stay for the next three months.”

            Bobby lit up, “Hank’s coming?” he said.

“Yes. Most of the doctors we have here are scientists that dress wounds on the side.” Jean-Paul rolled his eyes at that.

            And so what could Bobby do after that, other than call his mom. To say the least, the call could’ve gone over much worse. It went something like the following:

“Hey Mom,” Nervous laugh.

“Bobby, is something wrong?” Immediate suspicion and distress.

“No,” Another nervous chuckle, “Not really. Just wanted to call and see how you and Dad are. How are you?”

            “Fine, Bobby, thank you.” A pause. “Is there something you wanted to talk about in particular?”

“Well,” A big gulp, “You know how last time I visited, you were complaining about not being able to have any grandchildren?”

            Silence on the other end.

“Um, well, you and Dad are going to be grandparents after all.”

More silence.

            “Uh, Mom?”

“Robert Drake, are you telling me that you knocked someone up?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Is it one of those girls on that island you live on?”

            “No, not really.”

“So you met her somewhere else?”

“Okay, Mom, I want you to listen very carefully. And don’t freak out. Because stranger things have happened, and this is relatively normal compared to those things. Probably. So don’t give yourself a heart attack or anything. Okay, Mom?”

            “Bobby, you tell me what’s going on right now.”

“I had sex with a girl a few weeks ago, but it was actually one of my team mates who someone put a nasty spell on. So _he_ was a girl. But now he’s a guy again and the baby is being protected by this spell-thingy while it develops because well… it’s in a guy.”

            “Are you saying you’re gay?” Suspicion.

“No! Mom! I –I mean, he was a _girl_ when we slept together. So it wasn’t _gay_. I mean… um.”

Silence.

            “…How many weeks along is she? Or he?”

“Uh… Eleven.”

“I thought you said it was a _few_ weeks ago!”

“Well, there was this incident with this healer and his mutation kind of speeds things up anyway, so yeah.”

            Silence.

“Robert Drake, did you sleep with that gay Canadian skier?”

“His name is Jean-Paul, Mom.”

            “I heard he died.”

“He came back to life a few years ago.”

“Well then, I am-”

“Robert?!” A new voice.

            “Uh, hey, Dad.”

“Did I hear correctly? I’m going to be a grandfather?”

“Yeah, but…”

 

            But William Drake didn’t even seem to care that the ‘mother’ was in fact a man. Apparently he and Madeline Drake had long given up on the idea that they would ever get to become grandparents, so they were now overjoyed.

            William said so, and Bobby groaned, “Jesus, Dad, I’m not _that_ old.”

“When I was twenty-five, your mother and I were already married!”

“Okay, Dad.” Bobby sighed, “I have to go. Can I call back later?” He hung up and let out a deep breath. “Oh my God.”

            Jean-Paul sat nearby at a table with a mug of coffee. He raised an eyebrow questioningly since he had only heard one side of the conversation.

“That was _traumatizing_ ,” Bobby said, sliding into the seat across from Jean-Paul, “They were actually really kind of _happy_ about it.”

            Jean-Paul snorted. “Well, I’ve still been unable to locate my sister. At least you know their number.”

“Wish I didn’t.” Bobby grinned slightly.

            “Hey there guys,” Rogue said as she and Gambit walked into one of Utopia’s Rec Rooms. She looked from Jean-Paul to Bobby. “So, Ah guess everythin’s out in the open?”

Jean-Paul nodded.

            Gambit twitched with annoyance, obviously agitated that he didn’t know what the hell was going on.

“Everyone’s O.K?” she asked.

“More or less.” Bobby replied, “It’s a lot to take in.”

            Jean-Paul snorted, “You aren’t even the one who has to deal with being pregnant.” He said.

Gambit blinked, tilted his head and stared at Jean-Paul intently. “Someone’s pregnant?” He questioned. Then an expression of comprehension dawned over his features, “ _You’re_ pregnant?” He raised his eyebrows but then shrugged and snorted, “Good luck wit’ dat.” He said.

…

 

            Most of the team took the news well; a few were a bit uncomfortable with it, but Jean-Paul and Bobby were generally liked teammates among the X-Men, so everyone reasoned that things would work out and they would be able to handle it.

            Hank arrived two days later with a young man following after him. He introduced the man to the team as Jacob X, a friend of his.

“He’s a scientist and doctor,” Hank told Jean-Paul, “I trust him to watch over you during your pregnancy.”

            Jean-Paul glanced at Jacob uncertainly. The man looked to be in his late twenties. He had long black hair, red skin, and all-black eyes.

“Call me Jake,” he said.

 

**Day Twenty-Six**

Jean-Paul was no longer training in the Danger Room. Hank had banned it after the second time Jean-Paul had fallen off balance in a sudden spell of dizziness.  The baby-bump was barely beginning to show, and now that he had a lot more down-time, people had a lot more opportunities to bombard him with questions which, frankly, he didn’t know the answers to.

            So while the X-Men trained and went on missions and did all those things X-Men did, Jean-Paul sat in the Med Lab and made conversation with the people down there.

            Jacob X was actually a nice guy, despite his harsh appearance, and he reminded Jean-Paul of an odd mixture of a young Jubilee, a brain-to-mouth filter, Hank, and Emma. Sometimes that was a good thing, and sometimes it wasn’t.

            “Well, on the bright side, you aren’t _so_ much of a freak, I mean, I think there’s already some guy out there who got pregnant before.” Jake said cheerfully one day as Hank performed the first ultra-sound. It was a few weeks late, but seeing as he had only been pregnant for four weeks, it was understandable.

            “That guy was transgender.” Jean-Paul replied flatly.

Jake shrugged and grinned as he went off to attend to some experiment he was working on.

“The magic Dr. Strange used is making it harder to see anything,” Hank told him, turning away from the screens displaying the ultrasound, “But it appears everything’s in order. The fetuses are developing healthily.”

            “That’s –what?” He stopped, midsentence and looked at Hank, utterly bewildered.

“Twins, Jean-Paul,” Hank explained, “I don’t know what gender yet, but there are definitely two.”

“Twins?”

“Twins.” Hank nodded.

“Twins.” Jean-Paul repeated. “ _Twins_?”

“Twin.” Hank confirmed once more.

            “Two kiddies,” Jake called from the other side of the room.

Jean-Paul groaned and buried his face in his hands. “ _Twins_.” He repeated to himself. “ _Merde_.”

…

 

Half of the X-Men, including Bobby, were on a mission, so Jean-Paul had nothing to do but wander about Utopia by himself. In the end, he found himself sitting on a couch in one of the Rec Rooms, eating a box of crackers and watching _Sixteen and Pregnant_ on MTV. He found it semi-disturbing how addicted he was getting to the show when the participants were all poor, pathetic teenagers. And how he still had something in common with the girls on the show, even now that he was no longer female.

            With that depressing thought, Jean-Paul stood up and went to find something else to eat. The crackers were gone, there was a commercial break, and he was hungry.

            It was two AM when someone shook Jean-Paul awake. He had fallen asleep on the couch with his arms crossed over the TV remote. He looked around blearily, not really understanding what was going on, and heard someone say, “C’mon JP. Time for bed. You can’t sleep here.” He was vaguely aware that maybe that person was Bobby, and he allowed himself to be pulled onto his feet and led to his room. His eyes were closed the entire time. When suddenly he bumped into something he figured was his bed, Jean-Paul dropped onto it without a word.

            Bobby grinned wearily and reached over to remove Jean-Paul’s shoes, tuck them under the bed and then move the French-Canadian under the blankets. When Bobby finally had Jean-Paul tucked in, he turned to leave and trudge back to his own room. The mission had been a long one and he was sore (he had a feeling there was going to be a huge bruise on his back in the morning); sleep was a very becoming idea.

            Suddenly Jean-Paul mumbled something sleepily. And then opened his eyes and mumbled something again.

            Bobby shook his head and said, “Jesus, Jean-Paul. Go to sleep. You can tell me in the morning.”

But the Quebecois blinked rapidly and frowned. He started to sit up and then decided he was two tired. “Ultrasound today.” He said, barely above a whisper, “Hank said…”

            Bobby had completely forgotten about the scheduled ultrasound. Panic shot through his mind. Was there something wrong that Jean-Paul had wanted to tell him?

            Jean-Paul smiled sleepily and murmured, “Better tell you mother… twins.”

Bobby knelt down beside the bed, giving a short laugh of what was almost relief. “You were trying to stay awake just to tell me that?” He asked quietly.

            “Oui.” The Quebecois answered with a tired smile. His eyes were barely open. “Crazy?” he said, circling a hand around his ear in a weak way.

“Kind of.” Bobby nodded. His voice had dropped to a whisper, too.

            Jean-Paul gave a quiet snort, “Wasn’t … lot else to do…” he murmured before closing his eyes completely.

            Bobby knelt there, watching the other man for a moment before he got up slowly and proceeded to exit the room. He looked back at the sleeping Jean-Paul once more before flicking off the room’s lights and shutting the door as quietly as possible.

            He was lying in bed, about to go to sleep when Jean-Paul’s words finally registered. Twins. Not one, but _two_ kids. His mother was going to be ecstatic, he thought vaguely as he drifted off to sleep, and he would be satisfied if it was okay with Jean-Paul.

…

 

_“Can I ask why, Robert?” Jean-Paul asked as she pulled away breathlessly._

_“Why what?” He replied, even though he knew what she meant._

_“Why are you doing this? Your unofficial job description?” she quoted his own words back at him._

_“Does there have to be a reason?” he asked._

_“You do know I’m not going to stay like this? It’s temporary.” Jean-Paul said, more force in her voice than was needed. She was convincing herself as well as Bobby._

_“I know,” Bobby replied, covering her mouth with his own. “Everything’s going to be fine again. Soon.”_

_They kissed slowly for a while before Jean-Paul pulled away once more, “It’s crowded in here.” She said, looking around the night club._

_“Let’s go back to Utopia.” Bobby suggested because that was what they both wanted anyway._

_They untangled themselves and stood up, but Bobby slung an arm around her shoulder as they headed out, “Everything is going to be fine. Promise.” His whisper was lost in the wind of the night._

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narharhar! Male pregnant security guard alert! >:D

**Day Twenty-Seven**

**Week 12 of Pregnancy**

**Utopia/Asteroid M**

**Off the coast of San Fran**

 

Bobby woke up later than usual the following morning and Christ, he was sore. He dragged himself out of bed and checked the mirror. Yep. Big-ass bruise on his back, just like he’d predicted.

            By the time he staggered out of his room, it was around the time people started eating lunch. Walking into the cafeteria, Bobby found that it was, in fact, full. A waving of hands in the corner of the room caught his attention and he made his way over the table where Rogue, Storm, and Gambit were sitting.

            “Hey guys.” He said, stopping in front of them. “Do any of you know where Jean-Paul is? I need to talk to him about something.”

They shook their heads.

            “He’ll probably be down here soon.” Rogue said, “No doubt he’s starvin’ by now.” She shook her head, “High metabolism and a baby. Whew.”

            Bobby blinked. “Yeah. Sure.” About that. Baby? No. Babies? Yes, it would seem to be.

“There he is now,” Storm announced, spying the Quebecois entering the room.

Bobby whirled around and headed over to meet him coming in. “Hey, Jean-Paul,”

“Good morning,”

“Quick question before this becomes a group thing.”

“Yes?”

“Did you … last night you said we were having twins. Is that true?”

“It is.”

            “Oh. I thought you were maybe… just tired and confused or something. Just a little.”

Jean-Paul paused and gave Bobby a strange look. They were only a few feet away from the line for food. “I don’t confuse easily.” He snorted.

            “Yeah, I mean but twins. For real?”

“Yes, Robert –for real.” Jean-Paul sighed exasperatedly. “Hank says we will know what gender in a few weeks.”

…

 

“Bobby! I was just going to call.”

“Hey Mom…”

            “You haven’t called in a week! What if something happened?”

“Um…”

“How’s Jean-Paul? Is that how you say it?”

            “Yeah, Mom, and he’s fine. He uh, had his first ultrasound yesterday. It’s a little late, yeah, but um… Hank –um, remember Hank? He told Jean-Paul there are twins.”

“Twins?!” Madeline Drake practically shrieked, overjoyed. “Is he there? Can I speak with him?”

“Mom, um… are you sure that’s…”

            “If he’s there, give him the phone, Bobby. I have to tell him about some pregnancy-related issues. You wouldn’t understand.”

            “Okay, okay. Just a moment.” Bobby put the phone to his chest to block the mic and walked into the Recreation Room. Several of the X-Men were lounging inside, watching television and chatting. Jean-Paul was sitting right in the middle of it all, holding the remote to keep anyone from changing the channel from Sixteen and Pregnant, which he watched with a strange mixture of anguish and obsession.

            Bobby leaned against the arm of the couch and held the phone out to Jean-Paul. “My mom wants to talk to you.” He explained with a slightly pained expression.

            The Quebecois raised his eyebrows in surprise but took the phone. “Hello? This is Jean-Paul.”

            Bobby carefully watched Jean-Paul’s face for any emotions. After a moment of listening to whatever Madeline was saying, he smiled a little. “Yes, I know. It was terrible.”

            What was terrible?

“I was sick for days.”

            Oh. Yeah. Of course. Duh.

“Oh really?” Jean-Paul grinned.

            “What?” Bobby whispered, “What’s she saying?”

Jean-Paul glanced at him and smirked slightly, waving a hand at him in a gesture of shush, I’m trying to hear something amusing that your mother is telling me and you probably won’t appreciate.

            Bobby sat back reluctantly but silently and settled for watching Jean-Paul nervously. By the fifth minute of their conversation, it was evident that his mother and Jean-Paul were getting along like old friends.

            It was strange, considering how much she had disliked all of his previous girlfriends… all two of them that he had ever brought home. Thank God she never knew about Mystique. She’d probably have a heart attack. Bobby figured it must’ve been Jean-Paul’s charm. It was really the only plausible explanation…

…

 

“Hank, do you disapprove of my current situation?” Bobby wondered. He was sprawled out across on of the examination tables, staring up at the ceiling. He had given up on waiting until his mother finished talking to Jean-Paul, and had wandered over to the lab Hank was working in.

            “What do you mean?”

“I mean… Jean-Paul’s pregnant. We’re not even dating. It was one time. And he’s pregnant. Do you think I screwed up?”

            Hank didn’t even look up from his work, “Bobby, people are impregnated from one-night-stands all the time. It’s not up to me to judge you for it. You’re surrounded by people who are being very supportive. But it’s obvious that you believe you have ‘screwed up’.”

            Bobby sighed, “Yeah, I mean, of course I feel like that… Jean-Paul doesn’t really say anything, but you know, who wouldn’t be kind of pissed off? I just feel like, I don’t know, I have to redeem myself or something. Getting him pregnant was kind of a stupid thing for me to do.”

            “Have you talked about it?”

“Yes. Well, not in depth. He’s okay with it, for the most part. We’re all pretty tolerant of strange things. But still. This probably wasn’t part of his life plan. I feel guilty.”

            “Then I suggest you do something about it, my friend,” Hank said pleasantly.

“Yeah. I should. I will.” Bobby fell silent. “Hey Hank?”

“Mm?”

“It’s good to have you back.”

…

Jean-Paul remained sitting in the Recreation Room even after everyone else suddenly rushed away after being called for an emergency mission. Outside, the sun was just setting. Jean-Paul got up and headed to the cafeteria.

             The hallways were quite deserted except for the occasional mutant refugee on some business in the X-Men building.

            He paused as he heard a crash echo through the halls, originating not far from where he stood. Jean-Paul recognized the sound to be that of glass shattering. He hurried down the hall towards the sound only to stop upon hearing unfamiliar voices and whispers.

            “Hurry, hurry,” someone was ordering, “Someone probably heard us.”

Jean-Paul’s eyes narrowed and he edged closer to the corner.

            There was some snickering and more shhs.

Teenagers. Definitely teenagers.

            Jean-Paul stepped around the corner to find several teenagers dressed in black with ski masks on. They were each holding garbage bags, and one was in the midst of taking a bottle of spray paint out of his.

            “I do hope you’re here to take out the trash for us.” Jean-Paul said coldly, crossing his arms.

            “This place was supposed to be empty!” One of the teens yelled as another whipped out a gun and pointed it at Jean-Paul. “You said the muties were all out fighting bad guys! You said it was on the news!”

            He stared down the barrel of the gun with amusement and slowly unfolded his arms and held the up in surrender.

“Shut up, don’t move!”

“You have the weapon,” Jean-Paul replied calmly. He looked into the eyes of the person holding the gun.

            They were dull, brown, and glazed over.

Stoned.

            Jean-Paul sighed internally. “What do you intend to do?” he asked.

“None of your business, mutie,” the teen spat. He nodded at the others, “Get going,” he ordered.

            “Unfortunately for you,” Jean-Paul said, “I can’t let you damage the building.”

Then, before they even knew what was going on, Jean-Paul zipped out of the gun’s range, knocked out the leader with a well thrown punch and proceeded to take out the other teens.  It was all over in less than a minute.

            Jean-Paul came to a stop and cringed, feeling nauseated. He immediately realized why Hank had banned him from training and using his powers.

            Rubbing his temple, Jean-Paul pulled out his cellphone and dialed someone to take care of the situation. He tied up all of the teens (six boys and one girl, he discovered when he took off their ski masks) and then continued on his way down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna be a while before I update again


	5. Chapter 5

**Jean-Paul Beaubier**

**Utopia/Asteroid M**

**Off the coast of San Fran**

“Hello, Madeline,”

“Hi, Jean-Paul. How are you?”

            “Tired.”

“Understandable. Is my son there?”

“No. He left yesterday.”

“Left? Where did he go?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“…No.”

“He and Worthington –Warren –went to San Francisco. They’re staying in the city for a few weeks to make sure everything is going smoothly. The X-Men are moving back there as soon as they say everything’s alright. It’s mostly just overseeing the reconstruction. Bobby went along to help with the money…” Jean-Paul trailed off. “You can try his cellphone if you’re looking for him.”

            “I will. Thank you and have a nice day, Jean-Paul, dear.”

…

 

**Week Thirteen**

 

“Ugh, Ororo, is it possible to die from boredom?” Jean-Paul wondered.

            She raised an eyebrow. “There are many things to do,”

“Like what?” Jean-Paul grumbled. “I’m on ‘maternity leave’. I’m not allowed to train or anything.”

            “You only have a few months left. Did Henry give you a date?”

“ _Oui_. Yes. Sometime in January.”

“Well that’s wonderful then. It’s already the 20th of November.”

“Hmph.”

 

**Week Fourteen**

“Look at you, Jean-Paul,” Rogue grinned as he sat down at their table during breakfast. “Is that a baby bump showing?”

            He grimaced. Despite the loose sweater he wore, his rounding belly was beginning to show.

            God, he was going to be _so_ fat in a few weeks.

 

**Week Sixteen**

Jean-Paul suffered severe mood swings. Rogue and Ororo began keeping packs of tissues with them for him and _that_ was just so humiliating it made him want to cry some more.

**Week Twenty, Day Sixty**

“Good news,” Hank said, “The fetuses are perfectly healthy, and I’ve been able to determine their gender. Would you like to know now, or wait until-?”

            “Now. Just tell me.”

“You’re going to have two little girls,” Hank told him.

            Jean-Paul closed his eyes and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Okay.” He said, “Wow.”

            “Better start picking out names!” Jake called from nearby.

…

 

Jean-Paul wandered through the halls of the building, one hand resting absently on his belly, which was quite visible.

            One month to go.

He could totally handle this.

            Totally.

He sighed and took out his cellphone, scrolling through the contacts and pressing Bobby’s number. At rang through, but no one answered.

            Jean-Paul hung up without leaving a message.

…

 

**Day Sixty-One**

**Week Twenty of Pregnancy**

 

“Hey, JP, d’you call yesterday?” Bobby seemed to be yelling.

“Yes. Where are you? It’s loud over there.”

“On a motorboat.” He could hear the grin in Bobby’s voice. “What’s up? Why’d you call?”

            “Robert, why would you call if you’re on your way over?” Jean-Paul sighed, shaking his head somewhat fondly.

“I dunno. You only call when it’s important.”

            “Wait, you’re not”

“-No, I’m not needed anymore.”

“Oh. It can wait. I’ll tell you when you get here.” Jean-Paul winced as the phone crackled and the wind and the water around the boat that Bobby was in got louder.

            “Okay,” Bobby yelled, “See you, then.”

…

“What was that?” Rogue wondered, raising her eyebrows.

“Bobby. He’s on his way back.” Jean-Paul shrugged, putting away his cellphone and relaxing back into the couch again.

            Rogue rolled her eyes and grinned.

…

“Hey,” Bobby said, walking into the Rec Room. He was still wearing a suit –casual gray on white without a tie –and his hair was windswept.

            Jean-Paul blinked. He hadn’t seen Bobby for a month, and had nearly forgotten what he’d looked like. He blinked again.

            “Hey, Bobby,” Rogue chirped, grinning and wiggling her fingers at him. “Nice tah have ya back.”

“Ugh, good to _be_ back,” He said, dropping onto the couch next to them and undoing the buttons of his suit jacket. “So, what’s up, Jean-Paul?”

            “Ultrasound yesterday. There are two girls.” Jean-Paul said.

Bobby stared at him for a moment then grinned, “Wow. That’s amazing. Oh, guess what –Warren’s making the builders add a nursery.”

            “Seriously?” Rogue practically shrieked.

“A nursery?” Jean-Paul repeated slowly.

            “Yeah. I totally thought he was against this whole thing, but apparently he wasn’t. Isn’t it cool? Warren wants to know what color the walls should be painting. He’s just going for white right now, but if you think a different color would be nice, he said to just say so and he’ll have it changed. And Anita –she’s this British chick who’s in charge of the interior design, totally amazing –she convinced us to make the nursery an extension of the rooms on either side of it, so there will be like, three doors…” Bobby launched into chatter, which Rogue happily matched, and they both went on and on.

            Jean-Paul sat back, just listening. He was getting this feeling –wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but figured it might possibly be… nerves.

            Sure, he got a bunch of baby talk from Hank and Jake and Kavita about making sure to keep healthy and blah blah blah, but this discussion on nurseries and Christ, now it seemed that Rogue and Bobby were talking about clothes and oh God, names, too… it was becoming somewhat overwhelming.

            Jean-Paul suddenly realized that despite accepting the facts, he wasn’t excite about this one bit. Not like everyone else. With a pang, he remembered his daughter, Joanne, who had passed away all those years ago. He could barely handle one child, he remembered bitter-sweetly. Now he was going to have two?

            He supposed it couldn’t be too bad. He was older now –almost thirty-one. His maturity had increased, if only over a few years. Plus, he had more people to assist him. That had to add up to something, right?

            “…What do you think, JP?” Rogue asked, bringing him out of his thoughts, “Not gonna give ‘em any really complicated French names, right? ‘Cause ya know there’s only gonna be like three people who’ll be able to say ‘em if ya do.” She grinned.

            He shrugged. “I haven’t given much thought to naming them.”

“We should make a list,” Bobby smiles, catching his eye, “Narrow them down to two, because I don’t know about you, but that ‘picking a name when they’re borne’ thing is shit. You’re totally delirious from giving birth, and that is how kids end up with names like ‘A-L-Y-X-Z-A-N-D-Y-R’ AlyxZandyr or Facebook. I’m not kidding, some dude in Egypt convinced his poor wife to name their son Facebook.”

            “No way!” Rogue said, cackling.

Jean-Paul tilts his head thoughtfully, “I’ll think of some names.” He said.

            Rogue left a moment later when her X-pager buzzed, and left Bobby and Jean-Paul in the room by themselves.

            Bobby was staring at Jean-Paul intently.  Finally, he said, “How are you, Jean-Paul?”

He shrugged. “Twenty weeks pregnant.” He said, like that explained everything. It kind of did. “How are you?”

            Bobby laughed slightly and then sobered. “No really, _how are you_?”

Jean-Paul found him surprised that Bobby actually asked twice. Most just asked once, took his word for it, and let the subject go. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “I mean, other than the day your told me, you haven’t really… are you like, mad at me?” He asked finally.

            Jean-Paul quirked an eyebrow. “Mad?”

“Oh come on, we’re not even dating or anything –we’re on the same _team_ for Christ’s sake. I’ve basically changed the rest of your life on accident and this” –he waved at Jean-Paul’s belly –“was in _no one’s_ plans. So tell me what you really feel about this.” Bobby frowned and looked at him expectantly.

            “I…” Jean-Paul opened his mouth and closed it. “I don’t know. I supposed I’d figure out what to do once I...” he winced, unable to bring himself to say ‘give birth’, “get _un_ -pregnant.”

            Bobby sighed and leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I’ve never actually said so, but I am. I’m sorry for screwing up in everything that I do.” He turned his head sideways to meet Jean-Paul’s eyes.

            Jean-Paul shook his head. “Robert. Don’t apologize for it. Life is never something to be sorry for.”

“Yeah, no, of course. It just… wasn’t supposed to happen, you know?” He looked down at the cushions on the couch again and frowned, tracing the lines of the stitches in the cloth with fingers.

            “I know.” After a moment he said, “You don’t have to do anything. You could still just choose to … I’m completely able to support myself.” Oh Lord, what was he saying? This was like emotion suicide, what he was doing… No. There was no point in getting clingy. People had meaningless sex all the time. Ugh, but not Bobby. He was the sort who usually insisted on knowing what he was getting into. Jesus, that just made everything more complicated…

            Bobby laughed, interrupting Jean-Paul’s line of thought before he could begin to get too caught up in it and freak himself out. “Are you kidding?” he said, “No way! There’s a list of people who would inflict bodily harm unto me, starting with my _mom_ , and besides, I don’t want to … _leave_ or whatever it is.”

            “Oh.” Jean-Paul said.

The tips of Bobby’s fingers brushed against Jean-Paul’s hand as he continued to trace the couch. They both looked down in surprise and then they looked up, meeting each other’s eyes.

            “Um,” But Bobby didn’t move.

Jean-Paul found himself raising an eyebrow in a silent question –a silent challenge.

            Bobby seemed to have interpreted the question in his own way, because he leaned forward and crushed his lips to Jean-Paul’s.

…

 

_“This doesn’t change anything.” Jean-Paul said later as they lay together in the darkness._

_“Okay,” Bobby said. “It’s not expected to.”_

_She started to rise, started to leave._

_“Hey,” he whispered, voice slightly husky in a way that made Jean-Paul shiver. “You can stay here for the night.”_

_She laughed._

_“Stay? Please?” he asked earnestly._

_She was lying back down even as she shook her head._


End file.
